The Goblins of NeapolisMilliken, 1836 - Počet stran: 146 |
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Strana xiii
... Invocation A True Story · Tubberfinn The Spear Head Prince Pensive The Glenfield Elves Iviedash Sally of Newtown ; or the Goblin Funeral Page vii 1 6 7 11 · 14 16 20 22 23 25 • 26 28 Jack Murphy ; or Tam O'Shanter the Second . The.
... Invocation A True Story · Tubberfinn The Spear Head Prince Pensive The Glenfield Elves Iviedash Sally of Newtown ; or the Goblin Funeral Page vii 1 6 7 11 · 14 16 20 22 23 25 • 26 28 Jack Murphy ; or Tam O'Shanter the Second . The.
Strana 28
... SALLY OF NEWTOWN , OR THE GOBLIN FUNERAL . Fair Sally followed a funeral ; And a funeral followed Newtown Sall : Whose she followed , I know full well ; Whose followed her , I cannot tell . She was hurrying home , the burying over ...
... SALLY OF NEWTOWN , OR THE GOBLIN FUNERAL . Fair Sally followed a funeral ; And a funeral followed Newtown Sall : Whose she followed , I know full well ; Whose followed her , I cannot tell . She was hurrying home , the burying over ...
Strana 29
... Sally dear , run ! Or that empty coffin will soon be full : Fly , Sally dear , fly , or you're undone ; All you've for it's to cross at Kelly's Pool . Run , run , but do not lose your breath ; Run , run , but do not stumble or fall : A ...
... Sally dear , run ! Or that empty coffin will soon be full : Fly , Sally dear , fly , or you're undone ; All you've for it's to cross at Kelly's Pool . Run , run , but do not lose your breath ; Run , run , but do not stumble or fall : A ...
Strana 30
... Sally ( a servant at Newtown ) by a goblin funeral procession , her narrow escape , by crossing the running stream at Ballina , and her swoon on her return to Newtown , -all this is Newtown tradition , founded on her Some of the report ...
... Sally ( a servant at Newtown ) by a goblin funeral procession , her narrow escape , by crossing the running stream at Ballina , and her swoon on her return to Newtown , -all this is Newtown tradition , founded on her Some of the report ...
Strana 57
... Sally ! Mrs. Dickinson curtsied , and opened the gate , Then out with a curvet we sallied in state , And rowly ... Sally , and Sally is rhyme to her real name . I am not sure but that rollypooly is the true spelling . We pass'd Peggy ...
... Sally ! Mrs. Dickinson curtsied , and opened the gate , Then out with a curvet we sallied in state , And rowly ... Sally , and Sally is rhyme to her real name . I am not sure but that rollypooly is the true spelling . We pass'd Peggy ...
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Adieu Æneid airy Anemone Hepatica Apparition arms Author Bark bloom blush bright Brobdingnag c'est Captain Smith cried Croghan Hill dark dear Derryadd Drumcranagh elves fair Fairies fait faut fear fell Finian's fleur flower Galanthus nivalis glen-field goblin golden Gray hath haunted head heart Heaven Heigh Hermitage hero Honour hope Ireland laugh letter lex scripta lines Lord lustre Macbeth Marathon Mediocrity Mick Dempsey Miss Kate Miss Sally môt Muse neighbouring never Newtown Castle Newtown Legends night o'er Ovid pale phantom poor powly quadrille reader repose rhyme rise rowly Saint Finian scarce seen Shakspeare SNOWDROP soft soul sound spirit Spiritus intus alit spring spring season stanzas storm sweet Tarlety Rarlety Ra tell thee thou thro tout True Story truth Tubberfinn Twas vernal verses white Lady wild wing Youth
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Strana 114 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Strana 114 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Strana 42 - Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: Though you untie the winds and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; Though castles topple on their warders...
Strana 110 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Strana 53 - Britain's isle, no matter where, An ancient pile of building stands ; The Huntingdons and Hattons there Employ'd the power of fairy hands To raise the ceiling's fretted height, Each pannel in achievements clothing, Rich windows that exclude the light, And passages, that lead to nothing.
Strana 66 - ... my inspection is done. Away, on thy gossamer wing ! Fear me not. Butterfly ; I will not seize Thee, poor little frolicsome thing : Thou art liberty's heir — thou art child of the breeze. Go — roam to what blossom, what bower you please. Away, on thy gossamer wing ! Yes, fly to the rose — it is breathing perfume ; Away, little wandering thing ! Every sun-beam is stealing a tint from its bloom ; Go — wait not till day-light has faded to gloom. For Time is, like thee, on the wing. Not gone...
Strana 108 - The innocent sleep . . . balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course . . . chief nourisher in life's feast . . .
Strana 42 - Sing, Heavenly Muse, that on the secret top • Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, In the beginning how the heaven and earth Rose out of chaos...
Strana 66 - Go — wait not till day-light has faded to gloom. For Time is, like thee, on the wing. Not gone yet, fair Butterfly, why then so still ? Art weary ? thou frail little thing ! Ah hasten — nor wait, silly insect, until Thou art marked by some bird for his ravenous bill ! Away, on thy gossamer wing ! 1 have noted each freckle and shade of thy coat, Ev'ry spot of thy beautiful wing ; And I hear from yon ivy a twittering note ; Go — hide in the cup of some blossom remote ; Adieu, little fluttering...
Strana 125 - The tail or end of any thing, as, the long curl of a wig ; the last words of a speech, which the player who is to answer catches, and regards as an intimation to begin; a hint ; an intimation.